What You Can't See Can't Hurt You
by Tyndie
Summary: It's supposed to be a nice, normal mission. So when they're asked to come back home and let somebody else do the debating, why does Obi-Wan insist that they have to stay? And why can't he adjust to the air on this nice, normal planet?
1. Chapter 1: THIADHD

Wow, I haven't written here in a long time. My last attempt was DISASTROUS-hopefully this one will turn out better. At least this one has a plot.

I don't really expect anyone to actually read this except maybe my brother, so I'm not writing for anyone but myself. I would LOVE constructive criticism, though.

I only wish I owned all these characters, but unfortunately, George Lucas does. So I suppose I should give him some credit for creating this universe. And everyone in it. Except for the ones that I actually made up. You'll be able to pick those out pretty easily. Also, I don't usually stick to George's characters' personalities, so forgive their OC-ness, please!

Chapter One: THIADHD

645AM

"_You're like me. Aren't you. You can See things, too."_

_Obi-Wan turned and stared back at the young girl, looking into her large, vacant grey eyes. He didn't answer. He didn't have to. She knew. He knew that she knew. He turned and walked away from her._

_Those eyes—those vacant, dull grey eyes. Did others see that in his own eyes?_

Obi-Wan woke without a start, simply opening his eyes to look up at his ceiling. Dawn was just beginning to touch his blacked-out window. Without glancing at the clock, he knew it was six forty-five. He always woke precisely at six forty-five.

_You're like me. Aren't you._

Strange. It had been a dream. Usually when he Saw things, he woke beforehand. And he never dreamed at all. Perhaps it wasn't a premonition. Had he been careless lately? Sometimes, when he was uneasy about being found, he Saw himself discovered like that; it never actually happened. Likely, he had nothing to worry about.

He stored the dream in his subconscious and put it out of his mind. He had other things to be concerned about today, like the history test he hadn't studied for. Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan's master, was psychotic about good grades, and if he failed one more history test, he was going to get it.

His eyes were greyer than usual, he noticed as he washed his face and brushed his teeth. He had to remember to blink convincingly while interacting with other people today. He had learned from experience that not remembering to blink led to answering questions and enduring odd looks. His mission in life was to be as normal as possible in all the right areas; it caused the least suspicion.

After dressing, he walked out to the kitchen. His master wasn't eating breakfast; perhaps he had an early meeting. Obi-Wan decided to skip breakfast in favor of studying for that history test. He settled on the couch with his datapad, thankful for the solitude his master's absence provided. He really should have studied before the day of the test. Diligence was not his strongest virtue.

736PM

Qui-Gon rapped on Obi-Wan's doorframe after dinner as Obi-Wan sprawled on his sleepcouch, by all appearances studying. He was actually talking to Garen and playing solitaire, but Qui-Gon didn't have to know that. Obi-Wan waved his master in without looking up, opening his precalculus notes to cover up the social networking site.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said by way of greeting, not quite fondly, but not coldly. This was the first they'd spoken all day. "How did your history test go?"

"Well enough," Obi-Wan responded, sitting up and giving Qui-Gon his full attention. Qui-Gon leaned against the doorway. He wouldn't come in and sit down. He never did. "I don't expect full points, but I certainly didn't fail."

"Again," Qui-Gon pointed out. By his facial expression, Obi-Wan presumed it was supposed to be humorous, and he smiled accordingly. But he felt no amusement from the single word; only sharp rebuke. Sighing slightly, he intentionally hid his irritation behind his practiced pleasant face and waited for Qui-Gon to say what he came for.

"I was wondering," Qui-Gon said after a moment. His tone was a study in casualness. "Did you have a dream last night?"

Obi-Wan saw no point in lying to his master. "Yes."

"I felt it."

"So I assumed,"

"What was it? It woke me up, though I can't figure out why."

Cocking an eyebrow, Obi-Wan asked, "What time did you wake up?"

"Oh, it was about four o'clock, I think. I dozed for another hour before going to work out. I'm not used to being awakened in the middle of the night, since you almost never dream."

"Interesting."

"What's interesting?"

"The dream woke me up at six forty-five." Perhaps he'd had the same dream repeatedly, and wasn't remembering it. That would be even more unusual. When on occasion he did have a natural dream, he remembered every detail, along with what time he had it at how many times he had it within one night.

As if reading his mind, Qui-Gon suggested, "Maybe you had the same dream twice."

Obi-Wan shrugged, dismissing the topic. "Maybe. Did you have a good day, Master?"

Qui-Gon sighed. "Oh, I suppose. Did anyone tell you we're leaving Friday for Taliadan?"

Obi-Wan shook his head.

"Oh. Well, we're going to Taliadan for a basic diplomatic mission. Your specialty," Qui-Gon added, flashing a smile. "Some farmers are having difficulty with their landlords, and they've asked for Jedi assistance to straighten things out."

Familiar rage rose in Obi-Wan's throat. He had planned to go see a holo-vid with his friends Friday evening. He _hated_ his plans being disrupted. _Hated_ it. It made him feel like he had no control at all over his life. He'd had the whole week planned out: college counseling Monday, history test Tuesday, private kata lesson Wednesday, precalculus test and holo-vid Friday, then swimming and lunch Saturday with his friends. He hadn't expected to be sent on a mission, or else he wouldn't have planned anything for Friday or Saturday.

Qui-Gon must have read his anger on his face or in his mind, because his face sobered. "There's no need to be angry," he said with a hint of warning. "It likely will only take a week or two."

Letting his anger dissipate as he let out his breath, Obi-Wan nodded. "I know. I'm sorry," he added quickly. He met Qui-Gon's eyes as his master blinked. Whoops. He wasn't blinking. He blinked twice rapidly to make up for his mistake, glad to have something to focus on besides his disrupted schedule.

"Don't apologize," Qui-Gon said kindly. He was watching Obi-Wan carefully, but apparently hadn't noticed that he wasn't blinking. "Did you have other plans for the weekend?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Not really."

Qui-Gon accepted this. "Our flight leaves at eight fifty Friday morning. We'll have to be at the port by seven fifty, so plan accordingly."

Obi-Wan nodded. Now that his business with his Padawan was over, Qui-Gon would go back to his work in the sitting room. Sometimes, Obi-Wan thought Qui-Gon thought he was more roommate than student. Well, he was seventeen, after all. True to his predictions, Qui-Gon said a quick goodnight and left the room. Obi-Wan went back to his solitaire and conversation with Garen.

645AM

Obi-Wan woke at exactly six forty-five, as usual, on Friday morning. With only twenty minutes until they had to leave for the spaceport, he was glad he'd packed the night before.

Waiting for his shower to heat up, he tapped his fingers impatiently. He felt rushed and restless. Frowning, he forced himself to calm down as he methodically showered and dressed. Impatience was not a virtue.

No time for breakfast. Obi-Wan brushed his teeth and packed some last-minute things—sleep clothes, toothbrush, comb. He walked out to the sitting room at nine after seven. Qui-Gon already sat on the couch, waiting patiently without a book, datapad, or magazine to distract him. His bag was packed on the floor beside him. Obi-Wan felt a flash of irritation just thinking about sitting there, waiting, doing nothing. He didn't know how he was going to survive the forty-minute drive to the spaceport.

Qui-Gon smiled absentmindedly but didn't say anything as they left their apartment. He turned on the radio after fifteen seconds of silence in the speeder. Obi-Wan tapped his finger on the armrest, breathing intentionally and focusing on the buildings whizzing by.

"Something bothering you?" Qui-Gon asked ten minutes later when Obi-Wan started bouncing his knee in addition to the finger-tapping.

Obi-Wan forced himself to be still. "No," he smiled, and turned back to the window. After several seconds he started bouncing his knee again. Qui-Gon didn't comment.

HYPERSPACE

By that evening, Obi-Wan hadn't calmed down, and he knew his restlessness was Sight-induced. He hoped it would be a short episode, preferably while everybody else on the flight was asleep. But there was nothing he could do about it. He could only wait and try to contain himself until he had the vision; then he would calm down. His eyes weren't turning dark grey yet, so he had at least another day or two before it happened. The thought of another day or two of this constant impatience was excruciating, but he'd have to make it through.

Qui-Gon was preoccupied by something, Obi-Wan could tell. As soon as they entered hyperspace, he disappeared to the sleeping chamber he and Obi-Wan were assigned to with two other of the ship's passengers. He was working on something, and didn't speak to Obi-Wan, or anyone, the whole day. Obi-Wan didn't really mind, as he spent most of his time exploring the ship and talking to the pilot. He should probably be studying for the precalculus test he'd have to take when they reached Taliadan, but he was far too restless to sit down and recommit polar coordinates to memory.

HYPERSPACE

The next morning after breakfast, Qui-Gon made him sit down and go over the mission details with him. The restless feeling had grown, and reading the brief was mental agony for Obi-Wan. He couldn't concentrate. It was all he could do to sit still and stare at the page.

"Obi-Wan, look at me," Qui-Gon said loudly. Obi-Wan jumped, realizing Qui-Gon had said his name several times. He put down the datapad and tried to focus on his master. "When negotiations start, I want to you stay out of it. Things could get heated, and you need to listen and focus on learning…"

Obi-Wan zoned out, eyes leaving his master's face to rove over the room. He would never understand why all the spaceships he'd ever been on had one color scheme: white and grey. It was as if the spaceship makers had a secret agreement to make their passengers go crazy by theming all interior in sterile med center colors. On a good day, spaceships' lack of décor exasperated Obi-Wan. When he was this hyperactive, it was claustrophobic.

"Obi-Wan, are you listening to me?"

"Yes?" Obi-Wan turned back to his master, mentally berating himself even as his thoughts bounced away again. He hoped this episode would come soon. He couldn't take this much longer.

"Are you feeling all right? Your agitation is a little distracting."

"Yes, of course." Obi-Wan smiled, convincingly, he hoped, and looked back at the mission brief on the datapad. This was torment. He prayed for it to be over soon so he could go back to wandering the ship and assaulting the pilot with questions and irrelevant anecdotes.

Finally it was over. Qui-Gon dismissed him but then called him back just as he was leaving the room. "Is something wrong, Obi-Wan? You're acting strangely."

"Oh, I'm fine," He remembered absolutely nothing about the mission, though he'd just spent fifteen minutes learning about it. "I just have THIADHD."

Qui-Gon's eyebrows rose.

"Temporary Hyperspace-Induced Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder," Obi-Wan explained, smiling innocently.

Obi-Wan could see his master mentally rolling his eyes. "Well, all right then. Go stare at a fan or something, then," he said with no small amount of humor in his tone. And Obi-Wan left to wander the ship and assault the pilot with questions and irrelevant anecdotes.

938PM

By the time they got to Taliadan, Obi-Wan was starting to get worried. He hadn't had the Sight episode yet, and though he'd gotten used to his restlessness, it was far from gone. Four days was longer than the restless stage had lasted before, and he'd been able to sleep at night. Usually the night or two before the episode, he couldn't sleep at all. He'd expected that to happen the second or third night of their flight, but he'd slept all nights of the trip.

Qui-Gon had gotten used to Obi-Wan's mental agitation as well, it seemed, because he hadn't mentioned it to Obi-Wan again. He was more worried about this trip, Obi-Wan sensed, than he let show. Obi-Wan wondered why. It seemed simple to him. Perhaps Qui-Gon was worried about something else completely unrelated to the mission. Or perhaps Obi-Wan was rubbing off on Qui-Gon and both of them were unnecessarily restless right now.

Whatever it was, Qui-Gon didn't confide in Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan had figured better how to contain his hyperactivity, and was able to recall what he knew about Taliadan as they waited to disboard the ship.

It was a small planet with a small sun in a small system, only recently discovered by Tach-aiken Igregios two hundred fifty years ago. There was no intelligent life on the planet when it was discovered, although there were signs of previous life. A few species, mostly human but some humanoid, had settled on Taliadan soon after its discovery. The land was rich and perfect for agriculture, which was what the Taliadan settlers came for. Their primary crop was a leaf called semnia, and they exported thousands of shiploads of the stuff every quarter. Obi-Wan couldn't quite remember exactly what it was usually used for, but it made wonderful tea.

The pilot announced that the passengers could now disembark. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan collected their few bags and went to stand in line near the exit.

"Do you know where we are staying?" Obi-Wan asked, looking up at his master.

Qui-Gon looked down at Obi-Wan, smiling briefly. "Yes, Galun Reiduy is setting us up in his own personal estate, in his guest chambers. You know, I had hoped he would offer us a hotel or allow us to come up with our own lodgings. He wants the negotiations to be on his turf, and he wants to have us under his thumb. He's very intelligent. There's a reason he's the biggest landowner on Taliadan."

"Ah," Obi-Wan shuffled along with the line as those at the front slowly moved through security. "And how are we getting to the mighty Reiduy's estate?"

"He's promised to send his personal chauffer."

"Oh, of course," Obi-Wan nodded. He bumped his fist impatiently against his leg as he waited.

After three more meters, Qui-Gon let out a puff of air and spoke through clenched teeth. "Will you _stop_ that _infernal_ figeting. It is driving me _up_ the _wall_."

Oh. So Obi-Wan had irritated Qui-Gon. His stomach tightened as he forced himself to stand still. That was why Qui-Gon had been avoiding Obi-Wan the whole trip. He bit his lip both in regret and in an effort to contain himself. It still wasn't easy.

They finally reached the ship's exit ramp. The instant Obi-Wan breathed the fresh air, he felt his entire body relax and his restlessness dissipate. That was odd, he thought a little dreamily. He looked up at Qui-Gon and saw a similar relaxed look on his master's face.

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "Semnia is used as a sedative in medical procedures. The scent acts as a mild sedative to those not used to it," he explained. "I was warned about that."

Obi-Wan nodded. That made sense. He put his bag on the x-ray belt and took off his boots for security. He concentrated on staying alert; he was very sleepy. Well, it was nearly ten in the evening here. Hopefully their host would not want to stay up late to chat. Obi-Wan just wanted to go to bed.

1024PM

As it turned out, Galun Reiduy was not even home when they arrived at his estate. His butler, a humanoid with a muted green complexion and very long ears, informed them politely that Master Reiduy regretted the date it fell on, but he was making his monthly rounds of his fields. He would be home tomorrow afternoon. The Jedi learned from him that Reiduy's wife and teenage son were, however, home, and would be honored to dine with the Jedi Knights the following morning. Obi-Wan said no more than was required of him, having fallen asleep in the speeder. He was very glad he did not have to act the perfect houseguest just yet.

Before he went to bed, he glanced in the mirror and noticed with mild alarm that his eyes had turned a deep charcoal grey.

320AM

_"Thank you," the young man said earnestly, looking into Obi-Wan's eyes. "Thank you so much,"_

_Obi-Wan smiled warmly. "I am glad to have helped you and your daugher," He glanced down at the young girl, who stared up at him with wide eyes. His stomach turned and he quickly looked back at her father. "And I am glad we can part amiably."_

_"Yes," the young man nearly laughed. "Yes, so am I. You are not likely to need it, Jedi, but if ever I can help you in any way, you need only ask." His striking green eyes crinkled at the corners. "It is not as much as I should do, but it is all I can."_

_"Thank you," Obi-Wan inclined his head._

_"Master," A young man Obi-Wan had never seen before touched his elbow. "Our transport is leaving,"_

_Obi-Wan nodded, gripped hands with the father. Then they both turned and walked away, the father back to his home and Obi-Wan toward his transport, following the young man with reddish-brown hair who had called him master._

_His supposed Padawan was several paces ahead of him when he heard a quiet voice behind him._

_"You're like me. Aren't you. You can See things, too."_

_Obi-Wan turned and stared back at the young girl, looking into her large, vacant grey eyes. They had been the same striking green color as her father's a moment earlier._

_He didn't answer. He didn't have to. She knew. He knew that she knew. He turned and walked away from her._

_Those eyes—those vacant, dull grey eyes. Did others see that in his own eyes?_

Obi-Wan woke without a start once again, opening his eyes to stare at the unfamiliar ceiling. His body felt drowsy, though his mind was wide awake. He struggled to sit up, then looked at the luminescent clock. Three twenty-two.

He was hot, burning from the inside. He had the sudden urge to scratch off his skin and crawl out. He was too weak to do anything more than throw off the covers. He couldn't breathe; each breath came as slowly as if he were still asleep. He tried not to let himself panic, but he couldn't help it. The familiar itch at the base of his skull started, warning him of an episode. Obi-Wan welcomed the relief from this awful heat but something darker in his mind warned him that he would much prefer discomfort to what he would See this time.

Each breath echoed in his head as the room went black. He slowly fell back into the sleepcouch and soon he couldn't feel it at all.


	2. Chapter 2: Charcoal Grey

Here's the next chapter. I wrote the first 10,000 words all in a rush, and I'm having problems breaking it up into manageable chapters. And I'm not at all satisfied with the dialogue. Some help there would be nice.

I don't own Star Wars, blah, blah, blah. You know the drill. Here's Chapter 2!

Chapter Two: Charcoal Grey

1026AM

Not being able to feel Obi-Wan wasn't unusual in and of itself. The seventeen-year-old was not very open to mental contact with his master. But breakfast was in less than fifteen minutes and Qui-Gon hadn't felt his Padawan even wake up yet. It was probably the semnia floating around in the air, Qui-Gon decided. He should go wake him up.

His steps echoed in the marble-floored hallways as he made his way from just outside the dining hall back to the suite he and Obi-Wan shared. Nothing felt amiss as he stepped into the sitting room. He knocked softly on Obi-Wan's door. Receiving no answer, he turned the handle and slowly opened the door.

Of course. The seventeen-year-old was still in bed, the covers shoved to one side. He lay on his back, face turned away from the door. His breathing was deep and even. Qui-Gon smiled, walking over to the sleepcouch. "Obi-Wan," he called quietly, reaching for his Padawan's shoulder.

The boy's eyes were open. Instead of their usual blue-grey color, they were nearly black. And they had no pupils.

Qui-Gon wrenched his hand away, gasping sharply.

_What _in _ages_ was wrong?

He cautiously waved his hand in front of his Padawan's eyes. No reaction. They remained unfocused and unblinking. He was breathing normally, as if he were asleep. He had no fever. Qui-Gon put two fingers on his jugular. His heartbeat was normal, beating at a regular pace for one who was sleeping.

Qui-Gon's own heart was trying to escape his ribs. _Come on, Jinn, don't panic. Panic clouds reasonable thought processes. Think. What else could be wrong?_

There was nothing out of place. Obi-Wan was limp and relaxed, perfectly normal. His hand rested on his stomach, his head turned to the side. He _looked_ like he was sleeping-except for his eyes.

Qui-Gon shook his Padawan slightly, praying that he would wake up. "Obi-Wan," his breath hitched. "Come on, wake up," he muttered, shaking his shoulder again.

His eyes abruptly changed, turning their usual stormy color. His pupils were dialated almost to the edge of the iris, but he kept his eyes wide open, staring up at nothing for an instant. This his chest convulsed, lungs searching for air. His lips were twinged blue. Qui-Gon took his shoulders, willing him to breathe normally. He felt Obi-Wan's skin hot through his sleep shirt; he was feverish, though his face was pale. Qui-Gon saw that spot just below and behind Obi-Wan's ear flush bright red; it always changed color before the rest of his face when he was exerted or embarrassed.

Obi-Wan's eyes darted over to Qui-Gon's face and suddenly his pupils shrank to nearly nothing. His eyes left Qui-Gon's face, bouncing over the ceiling like he couldn't decide what to focus on. Qui-Gon felt his presence suddenly enter the room, like he wasn't quite there before. His breathing was still labored, and he closed his eyes, gasping for air.

"Calm down, it's all right, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon soothed, holding his shoulders down and mentally comforting the boy. "It's okay, it's okay," he murmured, running a hand through the boy's hair.

Obi-Wan struggled to control his breathing, his eyes opening again. He looked at Qui-Gon for a moment, then looked away again, disoriented. He fought against Qui-Gon's hand on his shoulder, and Qui-Gon retreated, watching his Padawan carefully.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes with a sigh, relaxing, though Qui-Gon knew he wasn't anywhere near sleeping again.

Qui-Gon gently put the back of his hand on Obi-Wan's forehead, checking for a fever. Obi-Wan didn't move. His skin was hot, and his cheeks were flushed. The harsh sunlight coming through the window made him look even paler beneath it. Qui-Gon stroked Obi-Wan's hair and removed his hand again, waiting for Obi-Wan to recover.

The desire was faint, and Obi-Wan wasn't trying to broadcast it, but Qui-Gon heard it as clearly as if he'd said it aloud. Obi-Wan wanted water. Qui-Gon immediately went to the bathroom, filling up the cup by the sink.

When he returned, Obi-Wan was sitting up, bracing himself on his hands and staring into space. Qui-Gon silently offered the glass of water to him and he took it, drinking most of it at once and setting the half-full glass on the the table by his bed. His hand shook slightly.

"Are you all right?" Qui-Gon asked tentatively.

Obi-Wan didn't speak. There was a distant look in his eyes.

"Obi-Wan?"

He turned his head to his master with a start. "What?" His voice was hoarse.

Qui-Gon frowned. There was no point since he could see the answer, but he asked again. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, not even trying to smile. "Yes, I'm fine." He looked over at the clock, then sat straight up. "Ten thirty? It's ten thirty already?"

"What happened?" Qui-Gon ignored Obi-Wan's surprise at the lateness of the hour.

"Seven hours..." Obi-Wan muttered.

That didn't make sense. "Seven hours since what?"

Obi-Wan looked back at his master. "W-Well, ah," He paused. "Since three thirty, of course," he said as if it were the most obvious thing.

"What happened at three thirty?"

"Nothing. It's just been seven hours since then. And I went to bed five hours before then, so I slept for twelve hours. Not sure I've ever done that before."

He sounded perfectly normal and reasonable, but Qui-Gon wasn't sure he was very stable. He put a hand to his Padawan's forehead again. He no longer had a fever. "Obi-Wan," he said gently. "What happened?"

"I overslept." Obi-Wan's mind went a little slippery. It always did when he was trying to avoid telling the whole truth.

Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows, giving Obi-Wan the best serious look he could conjure.

Obi-Wan guiltily looked down at the coverlet. "I don't know." He looked up again. "What happened when you came in?"

"You appeared to be sleeping, but your eyes were open. And they had changed color."

"Hmmm." Obi-Wan's eyes unfocused slightly and he looked at the opposite wall.

"Obi-Wan, tell me what happened." Qui-Gon commanded.

Obi-Wan sighed. "Nothing, I just..." he swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Zoned out. That's all."

"Did you by any chance zone out for seven hours?" Qui-Gon asked pointedly.

There was definite guilt in Obi-Wan's aura as he checked his comm and drank some more water. "Ah...no?"

"So that was what that was about. Anything else you're not telling me? For instance, why your eyes were black and not blue like normal?"

"How should I know?" Obi-Wan shrugged. Here, he was telling the truth.

"Were you conscious?"

Obi-Wan bit his lip, sitting down opposite Qui-Gon. "In a sense."

"Care to explain?"

There was a long pause. Qui-Gon didn't push it, seeing that Obi-Wan was going to answer without further prying. "I had a...vision...of sorts. It happens sometimes." Obi-Wan sighed. "I don't know why."

Something tugged at Qui-Gon's memory, but he couldn't quite make the connection. It was likely nothing. A vision, he could handle, even if he couldn't explain the frightening change in Obi-Wan's eyes. Most Jedi had visions on occasion. He softened his tone. "What did you see?"

Obi-Wan blushed slightly, the spot beneath his ear turning pink. "I am not sure I can tell you," he said quietly.

"Why not?"

Obi-Wan didn't speak for several moments. Finally he looked at Qui-Gon, eyes pleading. "Please don't ask me, Master."

Qui-Gon wanted to insist. It had to be something important. He should know, to coach Obi-Wan through dealing with it. And what if he had actually seen the future, instead of simply what might happen? What if something terrible were going to happen? Obi-Wan didn't have to carry that burden alone. He wished Obi-Wan trusted him. The boy _should_ tell him.

But there was no fear or confusion in Obi-Wan's face. Whatever he had seen, it didn't bother him very much. Obi-Wan's eyes begged Qui-Gon to leave him alone, not out of obstinance or embarrassment, but out of the simple conviction that he couldn't tell. Qui-Gon gave in.

"All right. I won't ask. But I am going to talk to the Council about this. Changes in appearance aren't usually associated with premonitions. And seven hours is...much longer than visions typically last." In fact, Qui-Gon had never heard of an actual vision lasting more than a few minutes. Seven hours was a shockingly long period of time for one vision.

Obi-Wan looked away. Mention of the Council definitely scared him. Qui-Gon became a little more concerned about what he was hiding, but it could wait until he spoke to Master Windu, and hopefully Master Yoda.

Qui-Gon stood. "I believe our hosts are waiting for us. Come down as soon as you can; I can give you directions to the dining room."

"Must I?" Obi-Wan asked quietly.

Qui-Gon considered Obi-Wan and sighed. "I'll tell them you're not used to the air," he said with a small smile.

"Well, it's true at least." Obi-Wan reflected the smirk. "I'm not."

Qui-Gon ruffled the boy's hair once more and went to apologize for his tardiness.

1141AM

After breakfast and polite conversation with Kalua and Chaskaan Reiduy, Qui-Gon retreated to his room to call Master Windu. He reclined in a chair by the window and took in the scenery for a moment, thinking about what he would say to Windu. How should he explain this to him? Would he be unecessarily bothering him? Windu always had things to do, he knew. Would he be wasting his time?

Even if there was no point in calling, he hadn't spoken to his old friend in a while. He punched Master Windu's frequency. It was about eight in the evening there; he probably wouldn't be doing anything.

He picked up on the second tone. "Windu."

"Hi, how are you doing?" Qui-Gon didn't bother to identify himself.

"Jinn! I'm fine, fine, how's it going?"

They exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes. Qui-Gon praised Taliadan's lush beauty and relaxed atmosphere, and Mace expressed appropriate jealousy. Qui-Gon wasn't trying to hedge, but he was hesitant to speak up.

"Now what's this about, Qui-Gon? Are you having a problem with something?"

No fooling Mace. He knew Qui-Gon was calling for something. "Well...I had the strangest encounter this morning." Qui-Gon told Mace in matter-of-fact terms about Obi-Wan's oversleeping, the unblinking, charcoal grey eyes, his strange behavior on waking up, and their conversation afterward. Mace listened without comment.

"Anyway, I was wondering if that was normal, if it's anything I should be concerned about. I've never heard of anything like it before."

Qui-Gon held his breath while Mace held his silence.

"I think I am going to have to call you back, Master Jinn." Mace's tone was strange, shaky yet professional. He hung up without further explanation.

Well, that certainly didn't bode well. Anxiety jumped at the chance to cloud Qui-Gon's mind. He closed his eyes and meditated for a minute, getting it under control. Then he went to Obi-Wan's room.

The boy was sleeping again, and normally this time. He rolled over when Qui-Gon touched his shoulder, his breathing smooth. Qui-Gon stared down at his Padawan for several minutes and then left the room.

249PM

Qui-Gon took lunch alone in his room, as his host's family was busy and Obi-Wan still wasn't awake. Reiduy wasn't due back until nearly four, so he had some time to kill, at least. He decided to take a walk through Reiduy's expansive, exotic garden. The weather was unusually pleasant for early spring.

A few minutes into his walk, he clearly heard Obi-Wan thinking. _Almost three. Man, I slept for a long time. I wonder what everybody else is doing. Well, I want to take a shower. Where are the towels?_

_Obi-Wan, _Qui-Gon called mentally. _You're forgetting to shield._

_Oh, I'm sorry, _Qui-Gon heard his Padawan's embarrassment, and his shield went up more than necessary. Qui-Gon sighed, pausing to admire a purple flower. Perhaps he shouldn't have said anything. Hearing everything was better than hearing nothing at all, he thought.

Partially as peace offering, he sent Obi-Wan a mental image of the purple flower. It was really beautiful. Obi-Wan had very little interest in plant life, but he appreciated good art.

Obi-Wan's shields lowered a very small amount, and he seemed wary. _Pretty._

_Reiduy's garden is really big. You should come down when you're dressed. It's perfect temperature out here._

There was no response. Qui-Gon shook his head and continued with his walk.

_I'd love to see the garden, but the air is bad enough in here,_ Obi-Wan said nearly fifteen minutes later. _I think I won't risk going outside. I might fall asleep standing up._

Qui-Gon was surprised. _You're not adjusted yet? I don't feel the semnia at all._

_You've been awake for longer than I have. Besides, I'm still tired from traveling. I'll be adjusted by tomorrow._ Obi-Wan's presence retreated from Qui-Gon's mind again.

At that moment, Qui-Gon's comm rang. He jumped at it, reaching for the "accept" button. Yes, it was Mace. "Hello?" he said eagerly, taking a seat on the ornate stone bench he had just come up to.

"Yes, Master Jinn?" Windu's voice was strangely formal. "Is there any chance we could send someone to take your place in the diplomacy? The Council would like to speak with you and Obi-Wan as soon as possible."

"Is this about this morning?"

There was a pause. "Yes."

"What's wrong, Mace?"

"I can't say anything yet, Jinn. You and Obi-Wan have to come home to work this out."

"Work what out? It was a simple question."

"The answer is considerably more complicated. I've already got someone lined up; talk to Obi-Wan and call me back with your yes and I'll send her to take your place."

"Well...all right, I guess. May the Force be with you."

Mace did not return the courtesy, hanging up with no delay.

"That was odd," Qui-Gon muttered at his comm. He made his way back to the house.

327PM

"What? But we can't leave! We just got here, and we're supposed to start negotiations the day after tomorrow. Why do we need to be back at the Temple?"

Qui-Gon shrugged, slightly mystified by Obi-Wan's vehement protest. "The Council wants to talk to us. I'm _suspecting_ it has something to do with your vision this morning." He raised an eyebrow.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, we can't leave," he said firmly. "We've got to stay here. It will only take a week or so, anyway. If it's anything urgent we can talk over comm."

"Why do we have to stay here? I'm sure whoever Master Windu picked out is just as competent. There will be other missions."

"No, no, we _can't_ leave!" Obi-Wan insisted. "Please?" There was a spark of desperation in his eyes that Qui-Gon didn't understand.

"Why? What's so important that we _have_ to stay here?"

"Well..." Obi-Wan's voice trailed off, and he looked down, blushing a little. "I...ah...don't want to-go back."

"You mean you don't want to answer questions about your vision?"

Obi-Wan nodded, still not meeting Qui-Gon's eyes.

"You're going to have to sooner or later, you know."

"I know, I just...want more time to think about it."

"Master Windu thought it was important that we get back as soon as possible."

"Well...I don't want to," Obi-Wan's tone was very childish.

Qui-Gon spent the next several minutes trying to convince Obi-Wan to give it up, but he refused. He had his mind set on staying. Finally Qui-Gon gave up with a sigh. "Fine, then. But we _are_ going to talk about it when we do get back."

"I know," Obi-Wan said almost miserably.

Mace was not convinced. "I'm sorry, Mace, he is _adamant_ about staying. Can't it wait?" Qui-Gon asked uncomfortably.

"I'm not sure if it can," Mace responded in a low voice. "But I suppose so."

Qui-Gon hung up the comm feeling a bit trapped.

714PM

Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan out of the corner of his eye as he made pleasant conversation with Galun Reiduy that evening. Obi-Wan seemed distracted and did not smile as he struggled to respond to Chaskaan's attempts at conversation. It wasn't like Obi-Wan to be anti-social; he was usually perfect company with all age groups. He seemed to be paying more attention to Qui-Gon and Reiduy's conversation than anything else at the table, including the food in front of him.

"So what do you think of our humble planet?" Reiduy asked Qui-Gon, setting down his glass. He was definitely not a small man, though fit, and had a presence equally dominating. His voice was loud but cultured. The Reiduys were not quite human; there was something vaguely inhuman about their eyes and ears, but Qui-Gon couldn't place the exact species.

"It is very beautiful here," he acknowledged. "Pleasant climate. Is it mild year-round?"

"Yes, it is. The average daily temperature varies by about ten degrees Celsius between the summer and the winter. We've just finished our two-month wet season that softens the ground in preparation for seeding, which should begin in another week or two. However, if negotiations do not go well," Reiduy's smile dimmed. "It may be postponed."

Qui-Gon caught the underlying concern. Tensions were much stronger here than they'd seemed. Perhaps the farmers were threatening not to seed if their requirements were not met. "What, exactly, do the farmers ask for?" He recalled that it may have had something to do with rent rates, but he didn't remember much.

"They believe the landowners are not being fair in how much they take; they demand a lower percentage of tribute crop. They claim that they don't have enough to sell for themselves, but we landowners have already gone as low with our percentage as we dare. We will lose a great deal of money if we ask any less."

"Are the farmers supported by the landowners?" Qui-Gon noticed that Obi-Wan was listening more intently. He was glad, but wished his Padawan would be more engaging in his own conversation. Impoliteness did not foster goodwill.

"We supply the land and all tools necessary for growing. Truly, we bear all the growing expenses. The only thing the farmers do is cultivate the crops." A flash of anger left Reiduy's eyes as soon as it had come.

Qui-Gon noted the aggravation and stored the information for when negotiations would begin. He changed the subject. "How was your trip? I hope we are not taxing you too much after the journey back."

"Oh, certainly not," Reiduy's good humor was infectious. "I am used to traveling. I visit all my nearest holdings once per month, and I make a twice-yearly round of everything I own. Now _that_ trip is rather tiring! If I rush through, it takes me about five weeks."

"You must own a lot of land,"

"Yes," Reiduy nodded vigorously. "It is up to me to keep track of everything. I have employees, but I do not trust such an important job to a mere hired worker. When Chaskaan comes of age in a few years, he will help me," Reiduy looked fondly over the table at his only child. "But he is only sixteen. He should not be distracted from his studies."

"Ah, of course not," Qui-Gon made his tone understanding. He thought to himself that Chaskaan's studies must be very demanding if he could not help his father a few days per month, but chided himself for the disrespect and reminded himself that the culture on Taliadan was different than on Corescant.

"So, Master Jinn," Reiduy leaned back in his chair with a slightly more guarded look in his eyes. "I am very curious about your life as a Jedi. What is it like to be...what is the expression? _Sensitive_ to the Force."

There was something wrong, something that made Qui-Gon speak more carefully than he might have. "It's quite normal to me. After all, it has been my entire life. We live rather differently than most, but it is a good life."

"I have heard that Jedi can do unnatural things. Move things with their minds, for example, or trick people into doing things they do not want to."

"We alone cannot do anything out of the ordinary. If I wanted to move something but could not reach it, I would use the Force's strength instead of my own. And convincing someone to do something is not quite the same as tricking them. The Force simply assists us when we have need of doing these things." Qui-Gon said evenly.

"I have also heard that Jedi can see the future."

Qui-Gon noticed uncomfortably that Chaskaan and Kalua had paused in their conversations to listen to his replies to Reiduy's questions. He wondered what was the matter and chose his words deliberately. "On occasion, we glimpse what _may_ happen. Foresight is not a terribly common ability among the Jedi, but it is not unheard of."

"I am of the opinion that premonition is a type of magic."

Qui-Gon almost laughed but restrained himself. What superstition. "Oh, certainly not. It is entirely different. If we must be warned of something, the Force grants us insight. Magic does not exist, and certainly not for a Jedi."

Reiduy raised his eyebrows. "I believe you are mistaken. Magic may be less noticable in your world but here it cannot hide."

_One can be vastly intelligent in many areas and still blind in others,_ Qui-Gon thought resignedly. He changed the subject. "Have you lived here your whole life?"

Qui-Gon noticed that for the rest of the evening, Obi-Wan was strangely more relaxed than he had been before.

958PM

"Master," Obi-Wan knocked on Qui-Gon's door that evening.

"Yes? Come in," Qui-Gon smiled, wondering what this was about. Obi-Wan was very serious. He wasn't usually so grave.

Obi-Wan entered and sat a bit stiffly in a chair across from Qui-Gon.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," Nevertheless, he frowned as he looked at the carpet for another few moments. It looked like Qui-Gon had to drag it out of him.

"Do you want to talk about something?"

Obi-Wan shrugged, starting to figet.

"Do you want to tell me something?"

Obi-Wan shrugged again and said nothing.

"If you wish to communicate with me, you must _speak_, aloud."

"I know. I just..." Obi-Wan sighed. "Don't really know _what_ to say."

"Whatever you want to, of course."

Obi-Wan thought for a while. When he spoke, his tone was low and hesitant. "Do you ever get visions?"

So that was what this was about. Qui-Gon studied him. "Yes, occasionally."

"What are they like? For you, I mean."

"Usually, while I'm meditating, I get a glimpse of something that _could_ happen. I never see anything more than a few months in advance, and the vision itself lasts rarely more than a minute."

Obi-Wan was silent. Qui-Gon sensed that he should wait him out.

"My visions always happen exactly as I see them." Obi-Wan said quietly. "They always happen in the middle of the night, and they're always really long." He looked up, uncertainty plain on his face. "That's not normal."

Qui-Gon noted that it wasn't a question: _Is that normal?_ It was simply a statement: _That's not normal._ "No," he said slowly. "But that's not necessarily a bad thing."

Obi-Wan did not look very convinced, but didn't say anything more.

Qui-Gon started doodling on his datapad, trying to bring the conversation back down to the level of casual chat. "You've gotten over your THIADHD, I've noticed," he said pointedly.

Obi-Wan smiled, but his eyes only sobered more. "Yes," He sat back in his chair, looking out the window.

"Have you taken your precalculus test yet?"

"No," Obi-Wan shook his head. "I was planning to later tonight; I spent the afternoon studying."

"Good," Qui-Gon replied. He raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Heaven knows you need to,"

Obi-Wan's lower lip twitched, and he stood abruptly. "I think I'll go take it now," he said, voice strained. Without waiting for Qui-Gon to say anything, he walked out of the room with tension in his stride.

Qui-Gon wondered if he'd said something wrong. Probably not. Obi-Wan was prone to strange moods. Qui-Gon wished he'd lighten up sometimes. His seriousness was uncanny.

In a few minutes, he passed Obi-Wan's door on the way to the kitchen to beg a drink of water. Hearing voices, he paused. Obi-Wan had said he was taking a test. He heard his Padawan's slightly muffled voice, dripping with irritation.

"...Actually _reads_ my report card. I mean, I'm not a straight-A student, but I'm no slouch. He doesn't have to get on me all the time."

Qui-Gon could tell it was Garen on the comm. He said something Qui-Gon couldn't decipher, and Obi-Wan replied, "Yeah, well at least this test will please him. I'm sure of an A. I think this is the easiest chapter. What are you all doing tonight? Well actually it's morning where you are, isn't it?"

Qui-Gon suddenly felt a pang of remorse. He only pushed Obi-Wan because he was sure Obi-Wan could be a spectacular student if he tried. He really was proud of his Padawan's grades. He resolved to be more encouraging in the future and continued on his mission for a glass.

127PM

The following day, Reiduy gave the Jedi a tour of one of his plantations, one just outside his estate grounds. Qui-Gon found it fascinating, but he noticed that Obi-Wan was still dragging in response to the semnia in the air, especially outside. That was odd. He should have adjusted by then. Perhaps he hadn't slept well the night before. Qui-Gon kept any attention directed toward himself so Obi-Wan wouldn't have to talk very much.

This particular plantation was a small one, kept by only one family and two hired hands. The Jedi didn't get to meet the farmers, a fact Qui-Gon did not appreciate. He was eager to assess for himself whether the farmers needed extra crop to sell. Judging by the house that they saw only from the outside, Qui-Gon thought they probably did, but he would have had to see the inside to make an accurate evaluation. He would have to rely on the farmers' financial reports the next day.

The machinery involved in the processing of the semnia leaf was complex. Reiduy proudly gave them a detailed explanation of the method as they walked through the large warehouse that contained all the tools a few hundred meters away from the house.

"Since this is a small farm," Reiduy said. "The machines are more lightweight and quieter than their counterparts on the outskirts of my territory. They are also easier to use. Teschkul Yassin, one of the workers here, is responsible for that. He is a brilliant engineer, and I employ him all over my land to review production and suggest improvements. Now, you see this large comb here?"

Reiduy continued, and Qui-Gon devoted only part of his attention to his host, storing the information he had just received in the back of his mind. He would like to speak personally to this Teschkul Yassin. The man would have a worker's opinion on Reiduy's general treatment of his farms. Qui-Gon smiled pleasantly and responded in the right places as he tried to think of a way to accomplish a private interview.

When Obi-Wan nearly fell asleep over dinner, Qui-Gon excused him. When he had left, Qui-Gon explained, "I'm sorry. I don't think my Padawan is quite used to Taliadan air yet."

Reiduy raised an eyebrow. "Is he usually so sensitive to changes in air type?"

"No, not really," Qui-Gon shrugged.

Reiduy gave a little hum that Qui-Gon didn't like but couldn't figure why. Then Reiduy smiled broadly and continued their conversation.


End file.
